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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344881">Nothing Has Changed, Everything is Different</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeispowerful/pseuds/strangeispowerful'>strangeispowerful</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>~*Superpowers AU Oneshots*~ [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek &amp; Paul/Levenson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Jared Kleinman has CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Cute Ending, Evan Hansen Lies, Evan is an empath and no one knows, Evan's not as oblivious as we thought, I totally wrote this in two hours ngl, M/M, One Shot Collection, So everything mentioned in Jared and Connor's oneshots?, but not really Jared totally has character development, hehehehehe..., just kidding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:15:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,846</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24344881</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeispowerful/pseuds/strangeispowerful</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Evan can't read minds; it's never that simple. What he has is something different, something strange and wonderful. He can sense the emotions of other people, feel their energies radiating from their skin. It has the potential to be something beautiful.<br/>But Evan can't get past the fact that what he witnesses feels like intrusion. The secondhand pain and joy and love, none of it his. He should have a reason for seeing it, but all he can do is feel it. He can't manipulate it. It's a waste.</p><p>He's sitting on the bus, and it's getting dangerously close to the station, especially because he doesn't have a ride home. He's being paranoid, he knows that... but he has a sinking feeling that the reason that his friends aren't answering his texts is because he knows he's lying to them.</p><p>But how exactly do you tell someone you can sense their emotions when that person loves you? When their feelings, however lovely and heartwarming, are private, and you've felt them anyway? How do you tell them the truth when you run the risk of ruining more than just friendship? </p><p>It's much easier to lie.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evan Hansen &amp; Jared Kleinman, Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>~*Superpowers AU Oneshots*~ [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nothing Has Changed, Everything is Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Have I already posted something today? Yes. Did I write this in two and a half hours? Yep. Did I enjoy myself? Absolutely &gt;:0 and I hope that you do too~</p><p>trigger warning for some intrusive thoughts. Nothing that Evan seriously considers, but it's still there, so read safely.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Evan Hansen is sitting on a bus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not a school bus, but one of the buses that comes in from the main city almost a hundred miles away. Once he gets to the stop, he’ll have to find a way back to Tansy Creek, which means either having a friend pick him up, or taking an Uber. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of getting into a stranger’s car makes him feel sick, but nobody’s answering his texts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrolls through his phone, the swaying of the bus making his hands feel even more shaky, as if he’s been completely thrown out of the driver’s seat, with no control over what’s happening. Evan needs that control. He grips the phone case and tries to imagine the sinking feeling away, digs his heels into the metal floor and pretends like he’s fine, like there isn’t panic starting to rise in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clicks on Zoe’s contact, the photo that he took of her last summer at the fair. She’s on the unicorn at the carousel, acting like a cowboy.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hi Zoe</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I know you’re probably busy but do you think you could give me a ride home from the bus stop near Clearwater?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>It’s far, and I’m super sorry. My mom is swamped at work</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Sorry</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>He waits a minute, staring at the white screen. He hadn’t even thought about what he was saying, had just typed and sent. The Clearwater bus stop is miles away from Tansy Creek; he hopes that it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of the way, even though he knows deep down that it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no response, and the destination grows nearer. He opens Google Maps, types in the number of the stop. </span>
  <em>
    <span>12 minutes away. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Closes the app.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wishes that he’d never gone into the city anyway. But his father is visiting Colorado for a work trip, and he’d texted Evan that </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’d be nice if you came to visit for lunch, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Evan really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>hadn’t wanted to but what choice did he have? He doesn’t like the city; it’s loud and nobody pays attention when they’re driving, even if the green light for crossing the street has come up. There’s so many ways to get lost, or mugged, or kidnapped—not that anyone would want to kidnap someone like him. Should that make him feel bad?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mom had dropped him off outside of the hotel at noon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No answer from Zoe. Connor hasn’t answered either since Evan texted him when he first got on the bus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d had to wait in the hotel lobby for an hour before his father had stepped out of the elevator and half-smiled, leading him into the dining room for lunch. Evan doesn’t think that he had even said his name, just son, and champ, as if he were still seven years old. He certainly hadn’t asked anything. Just talked about business, and his new wife in New York City, Desiree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bus hits a pot-hole, or a bump in the road, or something else that is </span>
  <em>
    <span>please </span>
  </em>
  <span>not an animal, and everyone jumps a little. Evan’s heart is pounding. If only his mom had taken the day off—but how could he ask that of her, when she works so much on top of getting her degree to pay for his livelihood?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a panicked breath and opens Jared’s contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Jared, I’m going to be stuck at a bus station in Clearwater, can you please give me a ride? </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>I know it’s out of the way, sorry</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s endlessly pathetic. Evan doesn’t really care, though, not in the situation that he’s in. There’s a snake coiling inside of his chest, one of the Celtic ones that’s eating its own tail, slowly becoming tighter and tighter—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s being paranoid, he knows that. But some little part of him thinks that maybe none of his friends are answering because they know that he’s lying to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just the thought of it spikes adrenaline through his blood, because it’s true: he is lying. He never meant for it to become so… lost in translation. When Jared and him had first discovered the plant thing, that had been enough to process. How he could touch the earth, feel the life there, and coax it to the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d meant to tell Jared about the other power, the thing beneath his skin that had started to come and go in flickers until it stayed all the time, never going away. But telling Jared would mean that Jared would know what Evan </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>about him, and it was so personal and the guilt was so heavy that the words never came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s another reason that Evan hates cities, another reason besides the reckless drivers and the possible kidnappings. It’s crowded, and not just with people; with </span>
  <em>
    <span>emotion.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan can’t read minds. He can’t hear the direct trains of thought that every person goes through, the internal monologues. But he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. He can sense the emotion, radiating from a person. And cities are so crowded with feelings that it makes him feel heavy, and it causes pain to build behind his eyes until the headache is so bad that his vision starts going white and fragmenting like broken glass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even now on the bus, he can sense the people around him; the man across the aisle, whose thoughts must be crowded with affection and love; the child and her mother who are sitting near the front, innocent and warm and happy. The woman in the back, her body heavy with grief. He can’t help but wonder what she’s grieving over, can’t stop the snake curling in his chest, the guilt, eating him alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because if he has this power, this affinity, he should be able to do something about it. He should be able to step in and intervene, relieve the pain that everyone else is feeling. He shouldn’t be able to have access to someone else’s emotions, and only be something as menial as a bystander. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan looks back down at his phone. No answer from Zoe, or Connor, or Jared. He checks Google Maps: </span>
  <em>
    <span>seven minutes away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t even have the Uber app. He opens the app store, and searches it up, presses download. His head feels weak, even if the city is far behind him, and he looks out the window, trying to breathe deeper. He needs to make an account, but he doesn’t know which email to use and he doesn’t have his credit card number on him to pay the driver with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens his texts again. His heart is racing now, more than before, if possible. Alana works on Wednesdays, he knows, but he texts her anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Alana, I really need your help, I need a ride home from Clearwater and nobody’s answering, but if you’re busy I understand</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice comes over the speakers on the bus: </span>
  <em>
    <span>The bus will be arriving at Clearwater in five minutes, </span>
  </em>
  <span>spoken in the feminine robotic voice of a computer generator recording, and then repeated again in Spanish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thoughts start turning in tighter circles—</span>
  <em>
    <span>city, bus stop, Clearwater, Uber, liar, liar, liar—</span>
  </em>
  <span>until he can barely hear the rush of the wheels on the road, until he feels himself almost slipping away into a dull numbness. Maybe he’ll have to walk. He can’t imagine taking an Uber; can’t even get past saying hello to a stranger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hello’ is dangerous. ‘Hello’ is the sense of falling and not being sure whether or not there’s anything to catch you. ‘Hello’ is going out on a limb and having it be very, very possible that the branch will break and there will be nothing left to do but sit in awkward silence and wait for the feeling of the world rushing away from you to go away. </span>
  <span></span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants to believe that ‘hello’ is a gateway. Something easy to just—throw out there. ‘Hello’ shouldn’t hang in the air. It shouldn’t be visible at all. It shouldn’t make his palms sweat and his heart race, but it does. It’s dangerous, because what if it isn’t returned?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because if ‘hello’ isn’t returned, it’s just an invitation into noticing how invisible you’ve really gone. It makes you realize that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Hello’ is an objection. It’s saying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>no, I am not invisible, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>here I am. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It turns your skin back from transparent and makes you real again. But it’s safer to be forgotten than to appear and set up this disillusionment with the world that’s only saying ‘hello’ back because they’ve been taught that it’s proper etiquette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan can’t project himself incorrectly if he’s quiet, because quiet is safe. Quiet, and invisible, is not dangerous. ‘Hello’ is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Evan sits, and he keeps his head down as the bus shuttles along, and he tries to imagine that the world beyond the glass isn’t so separate after all. Like he can reach through the window and pretend that his destination isn’t just another set of ‘hello’s. Disappear into the rush of wind and just… disappear, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s three o’clock, so it’s not like he’s going to get lost in the darkness, or something. And on the interstate, it’s a straight shot to Tansy Creek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’ll have to walk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the bus pulls up to the station and nobody’s texted yet, he stands up, follows a few people off, and steps into the heat. The bus was air conditioned, so it’s like a slap in the face, but it’s not too bad, because there’s a little bit of a breeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few hours, when the sun has started sinking and the heat has turned into a wavy mass on the horizon, his own steps thudding in his ears, he wonders if it’s worth it. He knows that Tansy Creek is at least two hours away from the city, but the bus ride itself lasted almost forty minutes. He checks his phone; no answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all know he’s lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan stops, sits down. It’s unendingly hot, and his legs are shaking. All that he can see is a huge plain of dead grass on the other side of the road, and a forest to his left. He can feel his sinuses burning, but he’s too tired to cry. Even the panic has turned into a faint buzz. He’s just exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has to come to terms with the fact that Jared knows. Jared knows that Evan knows that he likes him. The emotion that Jared gets whenever Evan’s around, the messy, fluttery, feeling of falling; at first, Evan had thought that Jared had liked Zoe, even though Jared had come out when they were in the seventh grade. And then they’d been alone, one day, sitting at lunch, and the feeling was still there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Connor too. It’s such a mess. He kind of wishes he could die.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Jared is going to hate me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they all are. Because I have access to the one thing that’s private to them, the key to all of their secrets, and I haven’t told them. I don’t have consent. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It makes him feel dirty and sick. He wishes that it would just go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Connor will finally understand why he was trying so hard to be close to him this last school year, because Evan could feel the depression, all too similar to his own, creeping up, enveloping him. Cloudy and wrong and unbearably sad. Sitting with him at lunch and texting him to check in, trying to be an anchor for someone else when he’s not even anchored himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zoe will know why he’d constantly commented on how beautiful she was, even if Jared had thought that he’d just had a crush on her. He could sense the self-loathing, the unclear heaviness of feeling inadequate. He hopes that she doesn’t think that it was all fake.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe if I was out of the picture, everything would be better, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thinks, but then just feels even more pathetic for thinking it. He opens the Uber app, but there’s no service this far out in the boonies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then there’s a car on the road, one that looks vaguely familiar and it’s pulling up next to Evan and </span>
  <em>
    <span>stopping. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His heart rises into his throat as he scrambles to his feet. The window rolls down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jared?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get in the car!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s too shocked to say anything. As his eyes adjust , the sun glaring over the hood of the car, he can see Jared, looking both angry and confused, leaning over to unlock the door. Evan pulls it open and slides inside, nearly dissolving into nothingness against the coolness of the seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were you trying to fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>walk home?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan doesn’t answer, not even as Jared pulls a wide U-turn that causes Evan to fall against the side-door window. He’s always been a just-okay driver, but he isn’t about to get on his case about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jared’s voice is strained, as if it can’t decide if it’s outraged or worried. Evan can feel the anxiety pouring off of him. “Didn’t you get my texts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan swallows. “I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please tell me you weren't trying to walk home.” It’s quiet, the silence only underlined by the blast of the air conditioner, and Jared turns to face him. “How long have you been walking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The bus pulled up at three.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes an exasperated sound and speeds up. There’s no one else on the road, anyway. “I said I was on my way. You seriously didn’t get texts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head stupidly. His legs are buzzing, still shaking a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” mutters Jared, and Evan can see him gritting his teeth. “Jesus Christ. You really were trying to walk fifty miles. What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>is wrong with you?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t really thought about how many miles it was. He’d been out of his head. “I’m sorr—,” he starts, but Jared silences him with a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please, don’t apologize.” His voice is softer, but not by much. “I just—I’m sorry I cussed you out. I was just… worried when you didn’t respond, and then I see you sitting by the side of the road…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, the silence lasts for almost twenty whole minutes. This time, Evan breaks it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he says, but Jared just shakes his head and then hands him a bottle of water from one of the cup holders. It looks like it’s already been drunk from, but Evan doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he finally responds. “What were you even doing in the city anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan closes his eyes. “I was meeting my dad for lunch. He’s in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jared mutters something that sounds vaguely like a curse word. “And what, your mom wanted you to just walk home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to take an Uber. But I… I don’t know.” He can’t even bring himself to an explanation. His head still feels foggy from the heat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever,” he hisses. “I’m just… glad I was on my way. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Jared flicks on the radio and goes through a few stations before turning it off again. They drive through another small town that’s on the way to Tansy Creek, the fast food restaurants and dollar stores starting to turn their display lights on, and Jared asks, “Do you want a milkshake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan shakes his head. He’s not really hungry. But they pull through some drive through anyway and Jared orders a chocolate milkshake for himself and strawberry one for Evan because he knows that that’s his favorite, and then they keep driving and Evan is glad that Jared knows him so well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I am sorry for yelling at you,” he says, hands on the wheel. “You just freaked me out is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Evan almost says it automatically, but Jared doesn’t take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not okay. I should’ve been more understanding. It won’t happen again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Evan looks at Jared, and he feels his chest warming up and the coldness of the milkshake in his hands, and he wishes he could hug Jared even if Jared’s not a hugger. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The texts start flooding in when the cell service does, and Evan has to respond to Alana, Connor, and Zoe saying that everything is fine. He reads Jared’s texts last.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Hey, yeah, I’m on my way</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>It might be a while, okay? Wait at the stop</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Evan?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Evan</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Evan</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Evan</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Yooo</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Ok well i’m on my way</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>When they pull up to Evan’s house and it’s pretty much dark out, Jared says, “Listen, if you ever need anything, let me know. Seriously, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the yellow cabin light, he looks earnest, different than the usual jokey-side of him that’s more dominant. In fact, he’s been different all day; serious. Sincere. The falling, fluttering feeling is stronger and more centered. Evan tries to ignore it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Evan says, and even if he’s a liar, the smile that grows on his face is real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closes the door.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do hope that you enjoyed! Leaving a kudos or comment is a great way to express your feelings on this, and I am totally willing to answer any question that you have about this story, or the au series as a whole! Thank you so much for the continuous positive support; it honestly rubs off so much on me, you have no idea &lt;3</p><p>Also, the title is inspired by a lo-fi song by H:1? The song titles are similar, not the same, but I thought I should credit anyway :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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